This is not exactly true. But I find more and more that my “fame” in La Paz resembles the way I felt in the small town where I grew up. I’ve written already how I consistently run into people in the street here. But I think my day yesterday in general was a nice, comforting, and sometimes surprising indication of what I might egotistically (and not without irony) refer to as fame.
I woke up and was writing a bit at home. Sharing chocolatey cereal with my roommate Thomas, when our other roommate Jack came into the room. “Anybody want to go repelling today?”
After hearing a meager amount of details, I agreed. “But I have to go pick up my package at the post office first.” So I set off, fully expecting this to be step 1 of 7 or 8 in customs forms and bank deposits before my old jeans and sneakers would fall into my hands. There was no line to pick up international packages, and the pollera clad woman behind the window found my box quickly. She held onto my passport while I went downstairs to customs. And there in the doorway was the man who was actually quite helpful when Alé and I were attempting to get the box of tattoo needles through customs. The man walked over, took one look at me and said, “You look familiar. Have you been here before?” I explained yes, and why, and he asked “There aren’t needles in this one are there?” “No, just some old shoes of mine from the US.” He handed the box back without opening it.
After that I headed over to a café to do some writing, and along the way ran into Jack and Samuel, one of the bar’s owners. Less than a block later I saw Gonz from Tito’s and explained that I had just been repelling to him. “Que Bueno!” He walked off with a “Nos vemos esta fin de semanana” and a kiss to the cheek.
The rest of the day was less exciting. A bit of writing, eating dinner, hanging around the house. But its nice to live somewhere that doesn’t feel strange any more.